


To Going Home

by Starofwinter



Series: Gotal Aliit [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Introspection, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28603908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: Home isn't a place, its a feeling- Cecelia Ahern
Relationships: Din Djarin/Boba Fett/Fennec Shand
Series: Gotal Aliit [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077830
Comments: 4
Kudos: 157





	To Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> I love you all and I hope you're staying safe and taking care of yourselves.

Din has a hunt. His first, since his quest. It feels strange - both to be in a new ship, and to be alone. It’s quiet. No foundlings to keep out of trouble, no guests, just him and the purr of a ship beneath his feet. He misses the Crest - the familiarity of the creaks and groans, the one hallway whose lights needed the wires reattached every so often, the switch that required an extra three flips to bring the nav system online, the comm that needed a firm smack to a specific panel to connect past three parsecs - but this one will do for now.

He’s run over the details of his target enough times that he can recite them with his eyes closed, and now there’s nothing to do but wait until he touches down. It’s  _ boring _ , and once he might have longed for that, but now… he’s restless. He should get some sleep, but his skin is itching, and he wants to get up and pace the ship, but that won’t do any good.

He doesn’t want to think, so he busies himself with making sure his weapons are in order. All he has is his blaster, the spear, and a rifle, along with what’s built into his gauntlets, and they’re all spotless. He thinks of his Buir as he carefully checks over the armor that she had forged for him. Where is she? Did she join the remnants of their covert somewhere far from the sewers that had become a tomb for so many of them? He’d completed his quest. Would she be proud of him, despite everything it had cost? 

Din Djarin, heir to the Darksaber and a ruined planet and a scattered people, who’s given up his clan in more ways than one. He has to laugh at the irony. He never wanted any of this. He wanted as quiet a life as he could manage as a bounty hunter, and then when he couldn’t do that any longer, to settle down and build a family of his own. It would have been a hard life, but it would have been his. 

Now, he has a life he never imagined, for better or worse, and he feels so lost. He wants guidance; it’s why he’d accepted Boba’s offer so eagerly, the way he’d said  _ you just need a firm hand, someone to tell you that you don’t have to be in charge _ like he understood it and wanted to be that firm hand. Din doesn’t want to be controlled, but to  _ not be in control all the time _ is a mercy. It’s so  _ heavy  _ to carry so much all the time, and he’s tired of it already.

The comm chimes, startling him out of his thoughts. He sees the code and a smile finds its way to his lips unconsciously.

“Fett. Everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” Boba says, waving off his concern, “That old rust bucket holding up?”

“He was worried about you. Hasn’t stopped checking the comm since you left,” Fennec says from somewhere out of sight, her voice full of barely restrained amusement.

“Liar.”

“Everything’s fine. I should land in a few hours.” Din doesn’t know what to do with the idea that they’re… checking on him? Worried about him? He hasn’t had that since his very first hunts, when Paz would comm him in the middle of the night. It makes something warm bloom in his chest. “Is everything alright there?”

Boba chuckles. “Nothing we can’t handle. A few scavengers showed up, but they scattered once Fennec put a few rounds in the sand.”

“He told me nothing lethal.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t shoot them at all.”

“You and I both know what medical care is like on this dustball.”

Din surprises himself by chuckling. He pauses to take stock of himself, and realizes that he’s  _ relaxed _ . The tension of before is gone, and he can breathe again. “It sounds like you’ve got everything handled. You sure you need me back there after this?”

“We do,” Fennec says, at the same time that Boba says, “We want you.”

He blinks, that same warmth rising in his chest again. “I’ll be home after this, it should only be a few days.”  _ Home. _ It rolls off his lips like good tihaar, and he can’t help another smile. 

“Urcye mhi, cyar’ika. Get some sleep.” Boba says, and Fennec waves as the comm shuts off.

Din leans back in his seat, resting his head back against the console behind him. He feels  _ settled _ now, and he closes his eyes, letting the drowsiness take him.


End file.
